Chapter 7

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7. FEED

Aidan awoke to a spinning room. She turned her body over and came face-to-face with the cold dead stare and the big brown eyes of last night’s feeding. The brunette’s eyes held the ecstasy and terror of her final moments. Her twisted tongue hung out the side of her mouth, and her long, glossy hair was astray. Her skin was a shade of purplish-blue. Aidan’s frenzied feeding flashed in her mind. The honey and jasmine scent, which secreted from the brunette’s skin. The ease with which she submitted to Aidan, who swept her to the floor and ripped her tube skirt as she pulled it up the brunette’s torso. The brunette’s cries when she climaxed and the screams as Aidan fed. The torrent of blood that gushed from her thighs.

Aidan hunched over and wretched on the hardwood floor.

With her gut turned inside out, she lay flat on her back. The room spun like a tilt-a-whirl. If she lay very still, anchored to the ground, the ride would squeak to a stop and mercifully end. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but she was still vividly aware of her condition. Nausea, headache, and a deeply upset stomach; all of it added up to a hangover. How, she wondered, could a vampire possibly get a hangover? The viscous bile, a deep red of the brunette’s blood, oozed across the floor and caught in the corpse’s tangled hair. The slight effort of puzzling over it made her wretch again.

Rosa will be so pissed, Aidan thought.

She rose to her feet and steadied herself on an armchair. She took one step, two, and squish. Her black Converse sneaker landed squarely in the crimson vomit. The brunette’s tongue lolled out of her mouth as if mocking her. Serves you right, the corpse seemed to say. At the door to the bedroom suite, she gripped the knob and steeled herself for the horror show on the other side. Beau was in there with his feed, a heavyset middle-aged man who smelled like black pepper and pine. The guy had a type. Aidan turned the knob and opened the door.

The room was cloaked in darkness, and she adjusted her eyes. The stench of rotten meat hit her, and she choked to still her rebellious stomach. She flipped a light on.

Beau’s prey was slumped in the hot tub in the corner of the room. His naked and flabby corpse arched back, and his head rested on the tub's edge, his mouth gaping in horror and exultation. Beau was wrapped up in the bed covers like a burrito. Mmm, burrito, Aidan thought. What do vampires do for hangover food? Bile rose in her throat again. She covered her nose and mouth and tried to swallow it, but it was too late. She rushed to the bathroom and tumbled in front of the toilet just in time. Beau stirred in the next room, and Aidan picked herself up off the floor. She was hunched over the sink, rinsing her mouth out, when Beau appeared in the doorway. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers, his soft pot belly hanging over the elastic band. They looked at each other in the mirror. His hair was tousled, and he had an ethereal look in his light blue eyes. He carried the ease of someone who’d had a glorious lay followed by a great meal.

“Oh, honey,” Beau said, “I told you that girl was no good.”

Two people from housekeeping removed the bodies and returned to clean the bathtub and the blood on the floor. Aidan and Beau took turns showering, and afterward, they sat across from each other on the couch, each wrapped in a bathrobe. Beau had room service delivered, and a young Latino man with acne scars pushed a cart into the room with a porcelain vase and crystal drinking glasses. He kept his head bowed, even when he accepted the crisp one hundred dollar bill Beau offered, which he had pilfered from his feed’s wallet. The black name tag on his burgundy vest read, “Mateo.” He backed out of the room, pulling the cart.

“Another friend,” Beau said, noticing that Aidan was watching Mateo.

“How many ‘friends’ do you have?”

Beau picked up the pitcher and filled the glasses halfway with blood. She watched him drink, waiting for his answer. He drank deeply and squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the nourishment. She couldn’t imagine how he would want to feed after the night they had. He poured a glass for her, and she sniffed the blood and winced at its bitter scent.

“Drink it,” he said. “You’ll feel better.”

Aidan scrunched her face. “It smells like grass.”

“It’s a vegan. They’re like a super vitamin. Think of it as green juice for vampires. Great for the complexion.”

“If I drink this crap, I’ll puke. Again.”

Beau gave a dainty shrug. “If you want to sulk around with that nasty hangover, suit yourself.”

Aidan choked it down before she lost her nerve. It tasted like spinach blended with spoiled milk and dirt. Beau drank his three gulps. She shook her head, but he refilled it anyway.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she said.

He sat back in the armchair. “Rosa, you know. She’s a familiar. They all are.” Familiars were human servants, bound to the vampires they served by drinking their master’s blood. They traded their freedom for the wealth and power the Underground had within its ability to grant them. Some familiars were prominent billionaires, judges, senators, and former presidents. Aidan had never met one until now. They served only vampires with the influence to grant them favors, so the “friends” Beau rubbed shoulders with had to be powerful.

“Every person who works in the hotel - housekeeping, maintenance, reception, even the owner - are all familiars.”

“So they clean up the bodies, dispose of them, and keep our secret?”

“And we feed like royalty,” Beau said, raising his glass.

“So, who’s the guardian?” Whoever it was, they were asking for trouble. Treading on another guardian’s territory would ignite a turf war. “Which one of the Seven would mess with Celine like this?”

“Not one of the Seven.”

“Then who?”

“Someone new,” Beau said with a smug expression.

“How?” Only Johanna’s children were guardians, and she hadn’t turned anyone since the Reign of Terror.

“He wouldn’t say. Says it’s a secret.”

“Or he’s full of shit.”

“Who the hell cares? Has Celine ever treated us this well? Living and dining in luxury? Familiars who wait on us?”

“It’s very fucking illegal, Beau. If the Seven find out, they will hunt this guy down and sacrifice him to the werewolves.”

Beau scoffed. “The Seven have their heads up their asses. They can’t get anything done without Johanna. Besides, you and Sydney turned out alright.”

“Sydney and I are lucky to be alive.” The vampire who made them wasn’t just their vampire father. He was their human father, Cillian, who left home when the twins were young. Sydney insisted that he tricked them into turning into vampires, but it didn’t make sense to Aidan that their father would track them down only to leave again. The Underground chased him off, and he was in hiding. She was sure of it. Cillian would come back. “Underground law says - “

“Ugh, this again. You don’t need to remind me. Only one of The Seven can turn a vampire, and the vampire who made you wasn’t one of The Seven, so he broke the law, and now he’s an outlaw, and Johanna spared your life, and blah, blah, blah. It’s the same old bitch with you and your sister.”

“Sydney thinks The Seven will come after us now that Johanna isn’t around to protect us.”

“Sydney thinks too much about Underground politics. We should invite her tonight. You’re vampires. Enjoy it. Have a little fun.”

“‘Fun’ is dangerous for the two of us. We didn’t have the best upbringing.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Aidan, who hasn’t? Why do you think any of us ended up in the Underground? Because being a human wasn’t a walk in the fucking park.”

“Besides, I need to shake off this hangover before we come back to this place. I didn’t know vampires could get so drunk.”

“One too many vodka tonics for your girl.”

“I can’t do this every night,” Aidan said.

“Just take it easy next time. You feed like a newborn in this place.”

“What are we going to tell Celine when we get home?”

“That we were hunting,” Beau said.

“Yeah, but there’s that curfew.”

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